Absolute Fictional Transcendence had quieted.
Its brilliance dimmed after constant, heavy usage.
But even in its weakened state, the world around me remained vivid. In such stillness, variations of Fables could unfurl freely, vivid, grand, and sharp with perspective.
I shifted, feeling the dark weavings of collapse against my flesh come and go, replaced with the press of denser, heavier weavings on the Middle Wheel Platform. The weight was a familiar companion now, almost forgotten.
Yes. A pressure of the Null Cradle of Fold-Breaking Ascension still made its descent all around on everyone, and yet for me, it was so effortless that it could be forgotten. As if such a thing imposed no restrictions.
Yet I did not forget the stakes.
